


One Sucker Punch (And I Was Down)

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28996644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: None of them knew. Of all the things, Jon always made sure that nobody knew.Jon didn't think he'd be able to handle it if they knew. He couldn't live, knowing that each and every step of his was known. It would make him feel embarrassed, ashamed. Jon had never liked those feelings, because they made him feel weak, and if there was one thing that Jon hated, it was feeling weak.
Relationships: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	One Sucker Punch (And I Was Down)

None of them knew. Of all the things, Jon always made sure that nobody knew. 

Jon didn't think he'd be able to handle it if they knew. He couldn't live, knowing that each and every step of his was known. It would make him feel embarrassed, ashamed. Jon had never liked those feelings, because they made him feel weak, and if there was one thing that Jon hated, it was feeling weak. 

But that's exactly what he felt as, holed up in the small, cramped bathroom backstage, Jon procured a small razor from the inside of his jacket. It was shiny in the faint light. He sighed, and placed it between his teeth so that he could pull his sleeve up. 

It was mere routine, Jon knew. But the initial coldness of the metal against his skin was always shocking. It never failed to send a simultaneously shiver of pleasure and fear through his body. Jon took a deep breath. He stared at his arm, at the cuts that were just barely beginning to heal, at the white scars that were beginning to fade. 

The pain came like a tidal wave. It washed over Jon, and he shivered as he slowly dragged the razor from one side of his wrist to the other. Blood bubbled from the cut, and then slowly slid down. Jon watched as it dripped onto his pants and the floor. The pain was like Jon was being burned by a hot fire poker that was being jabbed into his skin. 

Raising his hand, Jon pressed the razor against the skin of his arm, and he pressed down. ' _Worthless. No talent.'_ Jon grit his teeth, and he closed his eyes as the blood pooled on his wrist. It was too much blood. Jon frowned. ' _Ugly. Nobody will ever remember you.'_

The blood looked dark, almost black. Jon sniffed, and it was only then that he realized that he was crying. It made his face burn with embarrassment, even though he was alone. ' _Weak! They always said that you were weak and it's true.'_

Jon took in a shuddering breath. He was shaking. The pain wasn't his usual pain, the one that ended when Jon wrapped his arm up and took so many painkillers that he became numb to the pain and the world around him. He blinked, and a single tear split down from his eye and trickled down his nose. 

Shame pooled in his stomach. Jon hated himself more than any nameless person in the crowd could. He hated how weak and pathetic he was. Jon raised his hand into a fist and hit his head hard enough to send a jolt of pain through his skull, but the feeling still remained. 

' _One more time...and nobody will remember me...'_ Jon held the razor up. His breath caught in his throat. He felt like he was about to throw up. He pressed the razor down, and his skin tore in two. Jon pressed down, thinking of how his voice hsd cracked and then he'd bumped into Richie during his solo and _'god that hurt stop it stop it stop it!'_ how the guys had smiled and been too kind to say anything. 

Jon ripped the razor across his arm. He was in too much pain to scream, so he opened his mouth and all that came was a wheeze. Jon tossed the razor across the room, and it skidded across the floor. He coughed. The pain spread like a fire throughout his body. 

The world swam. Jon looked at his arm and there was so much blood. He saw a flash of something white and knew that he'd hit bone. This shouldn't scared him, but it didn't, because Jon felt eerily calm. He felt too calm. 

In the distance, Jon heard a loud noise, but his mind didn't register. He stared at the blood and he felt sick. Jon could see one of his veins. He wondered if he was about to die. 

Everything felt distant. It was like Jon was swimming through a thick, black sea. 

More noise. Jon's head bobbed. He felt dizzy. Nausea creeped through his body and Jon squeezed his eyes shut. There was a lot of blood, and it felt cold against his skin. 

Darkness. Jon's mouth felt dry. He could hear his own heart, beating rapidly against his chest. 

Hands on his arms. Richie's alarmed face swam into Jon's hazy vision. "What the fuck man, _what the fuck?"_ Richie was covered in blood. Jon didn't realize that it was his blood and was momentarily concerned. 

There was rough cloth being pressed against his arm. Jon didn't want it but he couldn't find the words to protest. "Sorry..." He mumbled, unsure of what he was apologizing for. 

"Oh, my God, shut up." Richie groaned, his face torn in panic. "Okay, c'mon, let's get you help, buddy, okay? Let's get you help." He wrapped his arm around Jon's body and pulled him up. 

Jon stumbled. He couldn't articulate that he didn't want to live. Richie wouldn't listen, anyways. 

Distantly, Jon wondered why Richie was even trying. But Richie was his friend and he was telling Jon to hold on and stay awake, so Jon did. 

**Author's Note:**

> Bye.


End file.
